TELL HER NOW
I lost a friend two weeks ago. I knew she was sick. Maybe I should have known she wouldn’t get better. Somehow though, it was a shock to me that this open-hearted, vibrant, creative woman was gone. I had just assumed she would recover and come back with gusto. I was so wrong. It reminded me of the way I felt in my teens, that I was invincible. Sometime in my twenties I learned that I’m not, and apparently I had to learn this lesson over again. My friend wasn’t invincible, and I just didn’t see it coming.
The shock of the news sent me to a place of dysfunction. Cloudy thoughts, unable to focus or process simple things like dates or adding numbers in my head. I was in a haze. I reached out to a wise friend of mine who has managed grief in his life recently, with the passing of his wife. I knew that he would understand and help guide me. He shared some important advice in support of those who are grieving:
Welcome what shows up- say yes when people reach out to help
Use the resources available
Remember to refuel your body by eating and sleeping, even when you don’t feel like it
Remember that it’s ok to not be ok
Suspend judgment of others- each of us grieves differently
His advice was personal and heartfelt and so appreciated. He also helped me figure out how best to support those who were closest to her, and deeply grieving. He suggested that I share how I can help, rather than asking how I can help. Asking the open-ended question puts too much of the burden on the person who is grieving. Instead, I needed to suggest specific ways that I could help. For example, bringing a meal, sharing a book, taking care of an important task, or offering to just sit and listen.
My friend’s advice echoed some of the guidance given in Option B, a book on overcoming adversity and building resilience, in the context of grieving. Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant co-authored the book after Sheryl suddenly lost of her husband. It’s a raw and insightful book on grief. This book taught me to rephrase “how are you doing?” to “how are you doing today?” This is something I now use often, to signal to others that I really want to hear what they’re experiencing, rather than just swap pleasantries.
As I was working through my own feelings of loss, I had the opportunity to read my friend’s obituary and the comments her loved ones had made there. The messages were beautiful, touching, and poignantly captured the essence of who she was. I found myself wondering whether she knew people saw her in these ways while she was living. How many of us are truly seen? And when we are, how often do our loved ones tell us what they see? When was the last time I told the people that I love exactly what I love about them?
I decided to take action. I pulled out my phone and started randomly messaging my friends and family. I sent one friend a message that I admire her superpower ability to connect with strangers. I told another one that I love how wild and free she lives her life, as though other people’s ideas of what she should be just bounce right off of her. I told my sisters how amazing I think they are, how much I admire the strong substance of their characters. They are so strong and determined. And yes, sometimes I still think they’re invincible.
If my friends and family thought I was a little nuts, they certainly didn’t say so. What they shared was an outpouring of love and gratitude. One friend said that I made her day. Another one reciprocated my random act of feedback and told me how impressed she was with my own strength and perseverance. Another friend simply told me how much she loves me. I finally put my phone down, feeling warm and giddy and very loved. I think this tiny experiment is a window into what it would be like if we were all brave enough to regularly pour out our love and admiration of others. If we took the time and attention to really see each other, and carefully reflect what we see. As though we were writing a dear friend’s obituary, with all of the same weight and wonder as if we’d already spent out last day with them.
My resolve: tell her now. Don’t wait until the chance is gone. I’m going to tell my loved ones what I see in them, even when it makes me feel vulnerable. I don’t ever want to feel that I’ve missed the chance to show them how clearly I see them, and how beautiful and precious they are to me.
So many of us are managing grief and loss. We’re also looking for greater connection. If you’d like a partner, I’m here to help. Reach out for a complimentary session today.
